


Trust in You

by Webtrinsic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hera Syndulla Needs A Hug, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Kanan Jarrus Needs a Hug, Possessive Behavior, Protective Kanan Jarrus, Slavery, Twi'leks (Star Wars), Undercover Missions, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 23:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic
Summary: They can't see through his pretty lies when there is something of greater beauty perched on his lap.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Trust in You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunnymiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunnymiles/gifts).



> They love each other so much, now i have a week to binge my two star wars books and gain inspo for more fics :)

Neither of them were strangers to undercover missions, this wasn’t the first and it certainly wouldn’t be the last one they found themselves in. This one just so happened to be a little out of their depth, infiltrating a business that nearly mirrored the seedy yet refined world that Jabba the Hutt himself took pleasure in.

Of course this meeting was a tad bit more upscale than that as well, white collars and the only alcoholic drinks were served in martini glasses rather than large mugs. Kanan is dressed his best, but even still due to their funds he is more laid back and rugged than the rest.

Thankfully it reads more under the lines of him not caring, but there are a few patrons who still eye him wearily. Judging his attendance, uncertain if he was a rat-which he was but even they have to second guess would someone be so bold or stupid to try and infiltrate their ranks so...unaccordingly.

There’s a game being played, the participants exactly the kind of men he was looking for. The Jedi slides his hand across the back of the nearest empty chair, tilting towards the seat with his head in a silent question.

The four, a Utapaun, Chagrian, Devaronian, and another human male wait a second before answering. Looking him over before ultimately nodding their heads, still slightly skeptical, but Kanan’s charm oozes like sweat and it’s enough for them to allow a fifth player, even if it’s one they aren’t entirely sure of.

So much so as they shuffle cards and stack their chips, they prod him with questions. The answers he’d rehearsed tirelessly, he could recite them in his sleep if he had to. He was sure he could even convince himself at this point.

Slowly but surely more information came forward, nothing of too much importance, or anything that wasn’t common knowledge to the rebellion. Through the force he could feel their remaining reservation, it was honestly getting on his nerves as he managed to procure a fine amount of chips from the other men.

He was second to the lead and he was only getting closer, what did he have to do to prove he was one of them? It turns out the answer isn’t what he could do, rather what Hera would.

Kanan feels her presence, can even feel the air in the room shift. She wasn’t supposed to be there, you didn’t often find twi’leks at these things unless they were at the side of a master, and that was not a cover either were entirely comfortable taking for a spin.

Hera finding it too demeaning while Kanan struggled with the self-hatred he’d face at the thought. The larger than life viridescent twi’lek did not belong to anyone, keeping her in chains was sacrilege in his mind, the jedi felt disgusted with himself at even the mere thought of acting as if he owned her.

If anything, if anyone came close to owning anyone, Hera owned him!

His neck aches in his effort not to turn and face her, she catches everyone's attention, including the men in front of him who all look up-staring behind him as she approaches. Normally her presence brings him the uppermost feeling of peace, it doesn’t the opposite now. 

He’s scared and angry, this place is dangerous for her. It was a risk in itself of her leaving the ship, likely dressed to the nines since she was gaining more attention than usual. Mentally she’s locked down, likely on autopilot, this is wrong but there is always a price to be paid at war.

Hera’s hand trails over the backs of his shoulders, and instinctively he opens up his posture, always wanting her close. Especially when surrounded by potential threats, by men who all want to put their hands on her.

Red flashes in his peripheral as she comes up beside him, a tight backless crimson dress with a dangerously plunging neckline that also hugged her hips. Long slits pulling up to the tops of her thighs, exposing the full lengths of her legs as she elegantly perched herself on his lap.

Possesively he locks an arm around her waist, displaying to everyone in the vicinity that the beautiful twi’lek was his and his alone. Hera leaned further into his side, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder.

A black headwrap coiled around her lekku and her hand settled across his chest, idly playing with his shirt's buttons. Purposefully making it look like she was toying with the idea of opening up his shirt.

The once begrudging informants watched the scene with interest, the Chagrain man speaking up, “I must say, we’d been questioning your taste. But I can see now it simply falls elsewhere,” 

“Quite,” the Utapaun agrees, laying his card down in a bust. The other man nearly looks ready to drool, staring unabashedly at Hera’s chest. The captain does a good job at hiding her disdain, more focused on playing her part and listening in as Kanan valiantly tries to make conversation once again.

Hera trails a heeled foot up the side of his leg, the hand she had wrapped around the back of his chair moving to play with his nape. Sadly her presence brings the usual questions, turn for turn as Kanan wins a fine sum, he has to spit vile lies from his tongue. 

Lies where the amazing woman in his lap was nothing more than his pet, bred brilliantly, and the more he drones on he can feel something in her signature change. Numbness radiating from his partner as she continues to act, it something of an autopilot response now.

Time and time again in the past after bar fights and missions with contacts that belittled her every step of the way, had she reminded him that this was a normal part of her life that although she didn’t like, had to accept regardless.

It’s his own autopilot response that saves the fury from rising to his face. His fingers petting the knobs of her spine in the only assurance he could offer for the time being. He gets a long kiss to the cheek in response, hand sliding back up from his heart to the side of his jaw.

It’s the closest to lucid he feels her signature go, realizing grimly she was comforting him. Dear force, of course she knew he was just as uncomfortable as her, but hell he wasn’t the one being ogled and objectified. He should be doing more to comfort her.

Was the war really worth this? Sometimes he feared for her sanity, knowing this wasn’t good for her, let alone anyone.

A server steps in then, offering drinks and surprisingly Hera takes one, the server looks at him as if asking if that was alright, and the nod he gives in response is another tally on the chart of sins he’d committed that night.

She deserved a drink dammit, especially having to deal with these men’s bantha crap. 

As the night goes on, he feels her getting heavier in his grasp. It’s a miracle, a terrifying one that is born in the worst of circumstances but it also means something else.  Something that makes him take his own sip of his drink as Hera falls asleep, trusting him to keep her safe, to gather the information they needed, to be the Jedi Knight he was supposed to be.

A vulnerable Hera wasn’t ordinarily a good thing like it would be for others, and it didn’t come easy, even on their own it came with a push. He remembers vividly one night in some run down bar when a drunk patron had cut through the twi’lek waitresses lek with a knife, purple blood spattering in rivets as the appendage hit the floor with a thud and a scream.

Hera had been mortified, a tight scream stifled in her throat as she pulled back, knocking into his chest before turning sharpy, trying to hide against his skin. Hyperventilating.

She hadn’t been the only twi’lek in the place who reacted so strongly, the pain shared between them all as the dismembered twi’lek ended up running in horror to whoever was in charge of her.

They left immediately after, Kanan practically carrying his captain as she had tried not to cry. Once they’d gotten back to the Ghost she’d locked him out of her room which he had initially tried to follow her into and wailed for hours. The next morning she’d acted like nothing had happened at all, but it wasn’t something he would ever forget.

It takes another hour for the game to end, Kanan had all the information he needed. It having ingrained itself into his mind even though he feels like he’s paid more attention to Hera than anything else, but it had been a skill he’d learned as a jedi.

He doesn’t bother waking her, and the party had dimmed to the point where it wasn’t much of a spectacle when he lifted her instead of making her walk. His new acquaintances watching them go, well more accurately watching Hera, all of them a few credits lighter.

By the time they get back to the Ghost, Chopper was waiting at the ramp, peeved they didn’t bring him back anything. Whatever he wanted Kanan didn’t know or care, but he did care about the droids warbling.  Especially that it was loud and pulling the exhausted twi’lek from her rest.

“You fell asleep on me there,” he murmurs fondly once her eyes open blearily and land on him, surprised at the development as well. 

“Oh,” she yawned before her brow crinkled and she looked to him worriedly, “Did you get the in-”

“Yeah, I got it,” Kanan assured, cutting her off as he bypassed the droid and brought her to her room. 

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she apologized, shifting in his arms as if to get to her feet, but Kanan is hesitant to let her go, entering the room instead and setting her on her bed. 

“If you fell asleep you needed it,” Kanan pointed out, trying to push the lingering negative thoughts from his head as he unconsciously dropped to his knee and helped her out of her heels. She did nothing to deter him, instead unravelling her headpiece and helping him with his buttons when he sat back up.

He was tense under her hands and she wanted to rectify that, especially because she knew she’d caused his plight in showing up, “Stay with me?” she requests, getting an answer when he slips off his shoes. It’s quiet as they remove the rest of their clothes, slipping into more comfortable things before falling into bed.

There’s a difference to her touches now, all sincere and just for him. His motions are the same as before, a hand trailing her spine and a possessive arm wrapped around her hips.

It causes her to frown for a moment, unsure of what to do to comfort the both of them after their long night. They’d gotten everything they needed, a success really, but it was a mission that would haunt them for their own reasons.

Thankfully they had each other, they wouldn’t trust anyone else to make it better. 

**Author's Note:**

> Snap: allisonw1122  
> Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122  
> Insta:Webtrinsic


End file.
